Family, Duty, Honour
by SimplyTully
Summary: Present!Blackfish, AFFC-ADWD. Brynden Tully is forced to a decision. Implied characters' death.


_FOREWORD_

_This WAS to be my positively final ASOIAF fanfic. In early summer 2010 I wanted to get rid of my Blackfish obsession. So I threw this story together, using poor Dany as an excuse and not caring very much about believability. I only cared about ending it all._

_The original story began with Brynden saying "What have I done that the gods should punish me thus." We barely glimpsed Daenerys, and the two armies did clash. It was pretty final._

_Of course, "my" Blackfish did not want the saga to end; so much that FDH was followed (after a brief connecting sketch, by now named "The Stark In Winterfell") by the novel-length story "Let the River Run", which is pretty good, not because I say so._

_But at that point, FDH ceased to be a somewhat dream-like, symbolic conclusion. Its follow-up was very rational, so FDH had to be well rooted in the rest of the saga - and it was not. Daenerys and/or Brynden looked like the bad guys for causing a bloodbath out of pure stubborness._

_My genius Bro suggested Brynden's proposal. I had the idea of Daenerys' Stark obsession. My aunt read the story and declared that, given what we see and hear at the end, Brynden's obduracy is vindicated._

_I don't know. I wrote additional dialogue, but to me they still look like bad guys, which was not my intention, especially in regard to Daenerys. But I've had this story on my hands for too long, and if I don't post it I can't go on to "Let the River Run". So here it is... Hope you enjoy it despite everything!_

_PS: Yes, I did read ADWD, and yes, I'm ignoring it._

**Timeline of my stories:**

**Past!Blackfish:**  
><strong>- CHALLENGE, posted<strong>  
><strong>- FOR THE CAUSE, work in progress<strong>  
><strong>- A WORTHLESS LIFE, posted<strong>  
><strong>- UNTITLED 1, work in progress<strong>  
><strong>- A TULLY PARTING, posted<strong>  
><strong>- THE KNIGHT OF THE BLOODY GATE, posted<strong>

**Present!Blackfish (AFFC-ADWD timeline):  
>- MOURNING, posted<br>- ALLEGIANCE, posted  
>- FAITH, posted<br>- FAMILY, DUTY, HONOUR, posted  
>- THE STARK IN WINTERFELL work in progress<strong>

**Future!Blackfish:**  
><strong>LET THE RIVER RUN work in progress<strong>

* * *

><p>FAMILY, DUTY, HONOUR<p>

"I cannot surrender what I do not own, Your Grace."

They stood at the head of the Northern army which had been vainly trying to block the Neck. Above the stony moors around them, covered in ancient heather, trickling with hidden streamlets, rose the grey ruins of Winterfell. A proud young queen faced their ramshackle host with thousands of Eastern warriors; three shapes moved in the darkened sky, beating vast wings of ancient power.

Tall on her silver horse, flanked by her guards in black-and-red armour and helms, Daenerys Targaryen looked the Blackfish up and down. Brynden tightened his hold on the reins and lifted his chin. Let her see the lines on his face, the strands of grey hair the wind blew into his eyes. Let her see his full armour too, the shiny black trout on his surcoat, the black helm under his arm, his dark blue Tully cloak embroidered with a mud-red border.

Lady Maege Mormont had had it sewn by a grateful local seamstress when they had freed Winterfell from the Greyjoys. Unfortunately that had been the last of their victories. They had not been able to push South towards Riverrun and defeat the Frey-Lannister army. They had suffered grievous losses.

And then all of a sudden the Freys and Lannisters had just vanished.

Mormont would have loved to learn the fate of Lord Walder Frey - to know that the Red Wedding and Dacey had been avenged - and Brynden was probably eager to learn if his nephew Edmure had survived, but all they had were rumours. King's Landing had been occupied, Casterly Rock stormed, the Twins in ruin, and Queen Daenerys had obtained the fealty of all the lords she had met on her victorious march - until she had reached the North.

"Bend the knee, Ser Brynden Tully," she encouraged him. She was calm, rational, full of understanding, but to Maege's instinct there was also an undercurrent of unreasonable obduracy. "I have heard much of you, how you won back the North with your warriors." She nodded at the Northern lords mounted on their horses behind him - Lady Maege Mormont herself, Lord Jason Mallister, Galbart Glover, Mors Umber, Wyman Manderly, even a Lannister: young Lancel, Lord Commander of the Warrior's Sons, also known as the Faith Militant, recently come out of illegality.

"I do not wish for your deaths," Daenerys went on, and her strain felt stronger to Maege. She was not telling the truth. "All brave knights, and you, Ser Brynden, are the bravest. But you cannot dream of holding the North with an army that is maybe one third of mine."

_And lacking in dragons_, Maege thought with a shiver.

Brynden's face looked pained. "And I admire what you have done, Your Grace. Were I just Brynden Blackfish, disgraced knight, I would swear fealty to you. I do believe you are the legitimate queen of the Iron Throne... but not of the North. Our lands are as large as the other six kingdoms combined. This time the North will stand for itself."

"We can discuss it," Daenerys agreed with forced patience. "But I have pressing matters to attend to. The Wall is in danger, Lord Commander Snow needs my help against the Others. Let us pass, and we shall help them together."

"I will," Brynden replied, "but we'll help them as equals."

Daenerys' face betrayed annoyance. "If you claim to have no authority to surrender the North, Ser Brynden, you have no authority to lead it either!"

"I have. By appointment of Robb Stark, King in the North."

"Robb Stark died at the Red Wedding."

"But not his brothers and sisters."

"They have been missing for too long, Ser Brynden." Daenerys' voice hid a shrill note. "They must be dead by now."

The Blackfish shook his head. The young Starks were his own brother's grandchildren. "Have you ever heard the calling of blood, Daenerys?"

The young queen was taken aback, whether by the blunt address or the truth in Brynden's words. She spoke sharply. "I have no time to wait for a Stark to turn up, and no time for diplomacy. I shall never treat as equals those who murdered my family!"

"Ned Stark did not murder anybody," Brynden said quietly. And that was a lie too, Mormont thought. Ned Stark had killed Arthur Dayne - in fair combat, some said, though it had been two against one, others said.

Daenerys' violet eyes sparked with fury, betraying her true feelings. "Ned Stark stood by while my brother and his family were massacred! _Fire and blood_, Blackfish. Bend the knee, like Torrhen Stark once did in front of my ancestor Aegon."

Brynden shook his head. "_Family, Duty, Honour,_" he shot back. "My family was massacred too. And honour forbids me to yield. But I have a duty to the men and women who follow me. I cannot let them be destroyed..."

Suddenly Mormont knew what he was about to say. She knew there was no option. She shut her eyes tight.

"But I have a proposal," Brynden went on. "A single combat. Your best champion against me. If I win, you make peace with the Starks and we march to the Wall together. If I die, the North is yours."

"I'd lose a great commander either way," Daenerys replied.

"We'd both lose much if we come to battle. My proposal stands."

"Very well." Daenerys made a small movement with her fingers, and one of the Queen's guards rode forward. He stopped and took off his helm.

Brynden gasped.

Mormont turned to look at the Blackfish's pale, haggard face. He sat on his horse, looking wounded to death. "What have I done that the gods should punish me thus," he whispered.

Daenerys' commander was an old man, older than Brynden. Mormont failed to recognize his face. His short hair and beard were silky white, his eyes blue as the invisible sky. He wore a red enameled armour under a black cloak, and his squire proudly carried the red-and-black Targaryen banner with the three-headed dragon.

"Greetings…" the Blackfish began, and his voice hitched in his throat.

"Brynden," the older man greeted him quietly. "You've stopped tying your hair." A slight smile. "You look good."

Brynden bowed his head. "I've decided long ago I was not Arthur Dayne."

"A wise decision, else you'd be dead."

"I trust you've been well, Barristan."

"I've had my ups and downs," the white-haired warrior said. "But whenever I feel sad, I only have to recall your face when I let you believe I'd crown you my Queen of Love and Beauty."

Brynden grinned. "Gods. I almost died of laughter."

Maege Mormont looked at him in shock. _"The hell?"_

The Blackfish turned to her with bitter laughter on his lips. "Oh, Maege, I wish I had the time to tell you."

Mormont was no thinker, but she knew history. The Maidenpool tourney - forty years before? - was famous, not because of the winner, but because of the loser. Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, had been defeated by a lesser brother, Barristan the Bold. Ser Barristan Selmy, the future Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, mysteriously vanished from Westeros a few years earlier.

She stared at the Blackfish, outraged almost beyond words. _"It was true?"_

Barristan was looking from Brynden to the stout lady of Bear Island and back again, with that strange, sad smile. "You did find a good woman, Tully."

"Too late." Brynden lifted his shoulders and let them fall.

Lancel Lannister rode up to the Blackfish in his grey robes and grey armour, armed to his teeth and displaying the seven-pointed star of the Warrior's Sons. Now Brynden was more than his commander; he was an Elder Brother in the Faith. "Let me be our champion, Ser Brynden!" the young man offered.

"I've already given my word, Lannister."

"I've met many like you, lad," Barristan told Lancel sternly. He looked at the Blackfish. "You were right about the importance of the Faith Militant too, Brynden."

"For the last time, Barristan, persuade her," Brynden pleaded. "I hold the North in the name of the Starks. Let me continue to do so"

"Have you forgotten what the Starks did to _Arthur_?..."

"The Starks are my blood," Brynden said, grief-stricken. "I shall stand my ground until _they_ tell me to surrender."

"There are no Starks anymore. The wolves of the North are gone."

"Then I shall stand my ground as long as I draw breath."

Mormont wondered about all the guilt piled over her man for decades. Failing Hoster, failing the young murdered septa, Riverrun, Edmure, Catelyn... Selmy... failing _her_.

Barristan sighed, distressed. "Join us, Brynden. Queen Daenerys knows your worth. Instead of the Kingsguard, we have a Queensguard." He nodded at Lady Mormont, who was glaring at him with her mace propped on her shoulder. "Open to all the best warriors."

Brynden shook his head. "Why don't _you_ come over to the losing side, for once?" His stubborn smile twisted the corner of his lips. "That tourney never really ended, did it?"

"It did for me. The losing side? You've _never_ learned to lose. Did you at least learn to be afraid?"

"Oh, I'm afraid of many things. But not of you."

Barristan's face darkened. "Last chance, Brynden. I still do not want to see your blood."

The Blackfish answered with one of his most roguish smiles. "My friend, this field is yours, by the grace of the gods. Yours... and mine."

Mormont knew this could happen, still it was heartbreaking. The young Targaryen queen was a spark of colours, but here on the field their fate would be decided between two old commanders. She wanted Brynden to yield, she wanted him safe. And yet, finally, all that he was - _Family, Duty, Honour_ - had come together to bring him on that field, standing against certain death.

Brynden turned towards her. "Take up your position, Mormont."

As second-in command, Maege had her instructions, and yet now she could not bear to leave him. "Blackfish..."

He moved his horse closer, held out a hand and cupped the back of her neck. He kissed her shamelessly in front of two armies. Mormont thought she heard a squawk coming from Lancel Lannister. Brynden had always had problems with the oath of chastity. Or was that Jason Mallister, finally realizing the truth about all those private meetings to discuss war plans?

Brynden pressed his cheek against hers. Maege lifted an arm to encircle his shoulders awkwardly. "Bryn, I love you,"

She felt his face change. He clenched his jaw, then let out a deep breath against her collar, and his shoulders squared beneath her arm as though he had taken a decision. His lips sought her ear. "I love _you_, bear lady."

If those damned beasts had swooped down on them and turned them to ashes right there and then, Maege would have been happy.

They hugged as hard as they dared on horseback, then parted. Barristan sat on his horse with a curiously contented look, but Mormont did not care about him anymore. She blew a rally note on her warhorn and started towards her reserves.

Lancel caught up with her. "My lady... this morning Ser Brynden asked me to relieve him from his Faith oaths. Now I see... I wanted you to know." He talked quickly, words overlapping. "I don't even know whether I have the authority, we should find a High Septon..."

"Did you do it?"

"Yes. I think... I think he believes he will not get out of this alive."

"Bugger that," she said in anguish. "Thank you, Ser Lancel."

Looking back over her shoulder, she watched Brynden ride off slowly, turning in the saddle to glance at her with a grin. He had never been so handsome, as though years of doubt and guilt had sloughed off him. She almost caught a glimmer of red in his grey hair.

Then he put on his black helm, drew his sword and quickened the pace into a gallop, while Barristan spurred towards him.

Mormont yelled her orders, her voice hoarse with fury and pain._ If there is a Stark still alive around here,_ she thought desperately, _let him or her come out NOW._

Another banner had appeared by the edge of the field, but she could not tell whether it was theirs or the queen's. It looked for all the world like the Lannister lion.

Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.

The last Maege Mormont saw of Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, he was charging against Barristan Selmy, sword in hand, shouting "Riverrun!"

THE END


End file.
